585. - Lucien
It takes me a good few minutes to both hype myself up and calm down enough to actually press the call button. Just when I finally do, I hear the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor with much more force than it should. In a bitter stroke of luck, Gabriel cancels the call anyway: it rings twice, and then stops. I stuff the phone in my pocket without caring too much: I'm sprinting towards the bathroom, my socks slipping on the hardwood floors.
I find Emma on the floor, looking dazed but awake. Her skin has taken on a sickly grey colour and her forehead is glistening with sweat. She's propped herself up on one elbow, but it looks like it's costing her all her strength to stay up like that.
"I think I fainted." She whispers when I fall on my knees besides her. Her body slumps the moment I reach to support her, leaning heavily on mine, but I manage to get her in a sitting position. "Must've gotten up too quickly."
She sways from left to right, her face still that awful colour that I've only ever seen on corpses. Her lips have cracked despite the several layers of vaseline she applies throughout the day. All the alarms in my head are going off. "C'mhere." I shift so that I'm properly sitting down against the cupboard under the sink and therefor able to provide support for Emma. She turns slowly, hands shaking, and then rests her head against my shoulder.
"What're you doing?" She asks weakly when I dig my phone out of my pocket again.
"Calling your doctor. I need to be sure if this is normal or not."
It is, as it turns out, absolutely not normal. We're to head to the emergency room as quickly as possible. Emma insisted on not taking the ambulance, which I kind of agreed with, but she's so wobbly on her feet that it takes a while to even get to the elevator. As it runs down she keeps leaning heavily on me. She's not looking as grey as she did in the bathroom, but her skin is still not any kind of healthy colour. I help her into the car, then quickly get in myself. It's supposed to be a short ride to the hospital, ten minutes tops, but in this traffic an ambulance would have been a hell of a trick. We've been told that there's no immediate threat to Emma or the baby, so having to wait isn't technical the end of the world, it's just extremely bad for my anxiety. We get there, eventually, and there's even a wheelchair for us to borrow - which initially Emma refuses. When I challenge her to take three steady steps on her own, she caves, though not without bedrading me for bullying a sick person. Her doctor has called ahead, so when we get to the front desk, there's already a room waiting for us. The moment we stepped inside, my stomach lurched to the back of my throat, where it sits as an uncomfortable reminder of how much I hate to be here. I don't have much of a choice, though.
Emma is curled up to a ball on the bed provided, apparently still nauseous and also back to grey. She does manage to tell me she always gets that shade when she's sick: there's not much to her colour to pale, so it turns ashy really quick. It does little to calm my nerves. A nurse comes in to check her vitals, asking some basic questions that Emma answers and I add to.
"The doctor will be with you in a moment." She promises. "I'm sorry there isn't more that I can do right now. There's trays on the counter if you need to throw up, just put them in the sink afterwards."
We end up needing two before the doctor comes, though not much more than yellow bile come out. I have to try real hard to keep my hands from shaking, both of fear of being here for Emma and being here in general. I get to use the first one as an excuse when Emma takes notice, and she's too sick to notice my terrible lie.
"Now, miss Middleton," The doctor says. Emma's tried to sit up a little, grasping my hand so tight I feel the bones protest. "With what you've told us and the information we got from your doctor, we suspect dehydration. It explains the symptoms and the fainting, and it's no surprise with the amount of morning sickness you've been experiencing. We're going to hook you up with some fluids, then Maddy here -" He gestures to the nurse from earlier. "- is going to get you admitted to the acute care ward. We'll run some tests there, but the fluids are the highest priority now. Have you ever had an IV before?"
Somehow, in what must be the eighth wonder of the world, Emma manages to look even paler. "IV?"
The doctor smiles sympathetically. "Not to worry, miss Middleton. Maddy is known as the blood warrior here. Always manages to find a vein."
But even under Maddy's skilled hand, Emma faints. Not because of a dizzy spell, but because she literally stopped breathing when Maddy went in with the needle. "Happens to the best of 'em." She says with a smile when Emma's come to just moments later. "And you're not in tip top shape to begin with, are ya? But no worries, it's in now. I made it so that we can draw blood from it too, so we won't have to stab you as often." She winks. "You should be feeling better quickly. I'll go check if they're ready for you at acute."
By the time they are and by the time we get there, Emma is looking much better. Still pale, still fatigued, but less on the edge between awake and unconscious. The nurses here are equally as nice and welcoming, and Emma gets assigned to Danielle. Blood is taken, vitals are taken again, questions are asked again, and Danielle notes everything down in her computer.
"To be thorough we're going to do an echo of your child as well. There's no real reason to be worried, we just want to be sure. You're a bit lighter than you should be at this stage and the medications you were given to work against the nausea need to monitored because you’re pregnant, so you might be here for a day or three. We just want to keep an eye on you for a while."
Emma needs to use the restroom then, during which I check my phone. Three missed calls from Gabriel, and a text message asking why I tried to call him.
Can't call right now. Emma's pregnant, figured you should know.
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